


Chasing Cars

by KentuckyTheFried



Category: Astral Chain (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Self-Indulgent, oops! player character has trauma from file 11, player character is named Pongo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:02:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23421397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KentuckyTheFried/pseuds/KentuckyTheFried
Summary: Three months after Noah's defeat and Pongo's return to NEURON, there's a party to celebrate his achievements. (Just a self indulgent fic that I blasted out as a way to step back from other big projects)
Relationships: Olive Espenosa & Player Character
Kudos: 5





	Chasing Cars

**Author's Note:**

> my hand slipped a few times, but I will not apologize. Enjoy some angst with a happy ending ~

Pongo had a feeling Olive suggested this.

A party, to celebrate NEURON’s success in defending the Ark against Noah, against the chimeras. Portal activity had gone down after Noah’s death, and with it, chimeras had become a rare sighting. It was, in all essence, something to celebrate. But doing so three months after Noah’s death seemed late. The party was aligned with Pongo’s return to NEURON, which made him wonder how much Olive played a role in its planning. 

Either way, when Pongo walked into HQ after a routine checkup of Maison Forest, the tables had all been pushed aside and a space for a dancefloor had been created. The command room wasn’t a big space, but somehow it worked as a cozy party space, and everyone inside seemed to be enjoying themselves. The tables against the walls were the homes of snacks and drinks, and those who were positioned close by were munching and drinking happily. On the commander’s desk was a rather large stereo playing a song Pongo didn’t know, something upbeat and modern. He hesitated to step foot inside, but when he made eye contact with Olive inside, he felt compelled to enter.

She was standing near the back left corner, nursing a glass of red wine in her hand. Next to her stood Akira - no, no,  _ Nessa _ . That was what she wanted to be called now. Somewhere in the three months he’d left, Brenda had managed to save one of Akira’s clones and restore her memories. She lived in ignorant bliss for a long time about what had happened. Pongo didn’t know the full story, but somewhere along the way, she realized she wasn’t the original Akira - she was a clone, a copy. And with that discovery, she told everyone to call her Nessa. She wasn’t Akira, she was someone new, someone who harbored Akira’s memories but would ultimately develop into a different person. It was taking some getting used to, but Pongo respected her decision. It was a way of creating her own individuality. 

“Finally back from your mission, then?” Nessa teased, her voice barely registering over the music, “About time. Jin’s gonna eat every last one of the shrimp appetizers if you don’t get in there soon.”

“I am not especially hungry,” Pongo told her, “Though I do have to ask...what exactly is this party for?”

“A part of it is for you,” Olive explained after taking a sip of her drink, “You were the one who stopped Noah, after all. You deserve a party!”

“I only did what I had to, in order to keep everyone safe. That hardly seems like the right reason to celebrate, especially when I work towards the same goal every day.”

Nessa and Olive exchanged a glance, both incredulous. Pongo sighed, knowing that there was no convincing either of them about his viewpoint. Of course, there was more beyond that simple explanation - this felt, in a way, a celebration of the day Akira died, a celebration of the last time he’d heard anything from Hal. His heart was heavy now, in this celebration of light. This was for him, but he didn’t deserve it.

“Pon.” Nessa reached out, put a gloved hand on his shoulder. She wasn’t donning her usual armor, sticking with just the dress shirt and tie underneath with the standard workpants and boots. “I know it feels weird, but you’ve done so much to help everyone. Let us give back to you.”

Pongo stared at her, into her, around her. He saw a reflection of his sister, an open book, past chapters defined. The chapters he hadn’t read were in a new language, one he couldn’t read. Was she expecting him to learn her new language, or act as if everything was okay, that he didn’t need help after everything?

A new song came on. People around him flocked to the makeshift dancefloor, except Jin, who he noticed wasn’t far away from them and was hovering around a plate of shrimp cocktails. The song was familiar, one of his favorites before joining the police force. A weight lifted off of his body as he turned back to Olive and Nessa, grinning softly.

“How long has it been since I have danced?” 

Nessa cracked a wide smile. “Oh, too long. I don’t think Olive’s had the pleasure of seeing your moves, either.”

Olive raised a curious eyebrow, but Pongo was already dragging them both into the fray, feet already bouncing as his heart became one with the song. He lost himself in the lyrics, in the way his heartbeats fused with the drums and bass, and as his hands disconnected from theirs he claimed the dancefloor as his own. This was his freedom, his escape for just a little while. It was easy to pretend that nothing was wrong, that the world was peaceful, completely healed from its battle wounds. 

His eyes closed, and somewhere along the way, he began to laugh.

How long had it been since Pongo had felt this light? Those three months of healing had given him little reprieve, and he hadn’t been able to find joy like this. How could he, when he believed everyone at NEURON hated him? He killed Akira, after all.

_...I killed Akira. _

The song ended abruptly and changed to something he didn’t recognize. Pongo stopped dancing, panting lightly. When had he started crying, and when had everyone left the dancefloor? Why was everyone watching him with those judgemental eyes, why were they staring at him like he was some sort of monster, why did he feel so sick inside -

“Pongo?”

Olive beckoned him back to reality. Her hands were hovering above his left arm, which had started to become static, between the material and the unknown. She looked like them, worried, judgemental, scared.

“I do not deserve this,” Pongo breathed, his voice barely a whisper above the music, “After everything...why me?”

One of Olive’s hands lowered; she kept her right hand hovering above his upper arm. She came around him so that they were looking at each other. That was when she placed her left hand on his hip, an action that startled Pongo badly enough to flinch. Her hand popped off in response, but lingered close to its former position.

“We’re celebrating all of you, Pongo,” Olive said, “We can’t imagine how hard it’s been for you, but...we can try to help, if you’ll let us.”

Her hands came down again, and she pulled herself closer, closer, until their bodies were an inch away from touching. 

“The next song’s one of my favorites. Will you dance with me?”

Pongo’s eyes widened, wiping away his tears quickly. “I, um, y-you know what the next song is?”

“Yep. And it’s a slow song, so it’s perfect for...well, a slow dance.”

Pongo’s left arm relaxed, the danger of transformation subsiding. He looked at Olive, how her hair curled around her neck, how gentle her expression was looking at him, through him, around him. To say her eyes were glowing was too much - no, her eyes were sparkling with opportunity, a dull excitement. She smelled of a familiar perfume, a clear summer day near the beach. How could he resist?

The slow song came on, plucks at a guitar soon followed by soft lyrics. Pongo placed his hands on her shoulder and hip and followed her lead; he loved to dance, of course, but he didn’t know much about ballroom dancing. She seemed to know more than him and swiftly took the lead, guiding them across the empty dancefloor. He hardly registered that it began to fill up again as the song came on, only focused on Olive, her smile, her radiance. 

“Tell me about a happy memory,” Olive said.

Pongo’s lips parted as he thought about how best to answer her question. “...In Maison Forest. We had a mission investigating that missing person, and we were trying to gather intel about her disappearance. There was a group of five brothers, all identical, and they would not give us any evidence unless we played their games. One of them was to guess which was the oldest brother after they ran around in circles. Akira got so dizzy from trying to watch them, she started spinning in circles, too.”

Olive giggled at that. “I remember her telling me about that. She said you cheated by using your IRIS.”

“Of course I did! They were too fast to keep track of, and we needed the intel!” Pongo smiled to himself, the memory made fresh in his mind, “We were never trained to solve those kinds of riddles anyways!”

She giggled again, something soft and almost sensual. She looked at him under half lidded eyes, the faintest hints of eyeshadow now fairly noticeable. Pongo felt his face heat up, biting the inside of his lip as the song climbed towards its climax. She was the first to lean in, head tilting upwards to meet him. When her eyes closed, Pongo knew was she wanted, and he knew what he wanted, and he knew that there was only one thing left to do. The song peaked, and their lips touched, lipstick sticking to his mouth as he closed his eyes and savored every moment. No wonder this was her favorite song - it was his now too, something to share together. A new happy memory.

When they separated, they opened their eyes, and Pongo saw someone new before him. An open book, with new chapters written in a language he could understand. 

Pongo smiled as the song neared its close.

“I might have another happy memory to share.”


End file.
